


Worst of Times

by crimsondust



Series: Fragments from the daily lives of Les Amis de l'A B C [9]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Gen, Injury, Riots of June 1831, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, though nothing graphic, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:25:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7828645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsondust/pseuds/crimsondust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a Tumblr ask prompt for the non-sexual meme pairings, ♟:Patching up a wound for Bahorel and Combeferre? by kcrabb88.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worst of Times

**Bahorel and Combeferre**

June 1831

Bahorel had planted himself firmly in front of a shop owner’s family that a soldier of the National guard was threatening because they would not clear the streets. They were demanding recompense for the pillaging of their shop during the riots. Combeferre stood by his side.

‘This is not your quarrel,’ the National guard growled though he lowered his bayonet.

‘It is, citizen. You threaten peaceful citizens who have come out on the streets to protest and you make it my quarrel. The law is clear.’

‘Are you a lawyer?’

‘Bahorel flinched at those words but nodded, ‘And I can quote you paragraphs which state that such violence and use of bullying tactics is illegal as the citizens have the right to resistance against any decree they deem unjust. It is the duty and right of the nation first and foremost to protect its people from reasonable harm. Not to mention that this is not the first time that the government has used illegal force against its citizens or have you forgotten the use of a fire pump to break up peaceful demonstrators only last month.’

‘We will be spreading the word in all the leading newspapers about the illegal use of force during these riots that the police and the National Guard have been too eager to employ. That should have some effect.’ Combeferre spoke in low, pleasant tones but his voice carried force and authority.

It caused the soldier of the National Guard to deliberate before lowering his weapon, ‘You are one of those Republican societies, aren’t you?’ he said looking at Bahorel and Combeferre, ‘Yes, I’ve seen your faces before and we’ve heard about you publishing pamphlets and other materials against the government. Traitors, each and every one of you, I should kill both of you here.’

‘You won’t have the satisfaction of proving your allegations then.’ Combeferre smiled.

‘We will soon have informers infiltrating your societies. What are your names? What group do you belong to?’ This time the bayonet was aimed at them.

In voices that rang clear amid the shouting and the throwing of pots and glasses by the ordinary citizens from the windows, they gave him their names.

‘You can expect a call from us at one of your meetings.’ The soldier laughed before walking away.

Bahorel clenched his fists, but for the cool, calm hand of Combeferre on his shoulder, he would have broken that man’s nose or even a few of his bones.

‘And where would that leave you? Languishing in prison or in a hospital? No, there are better ways to fight them.’ Combeferre replied answering Bahorel’s thought rather than his spoken words.

‘This was not an empty threat. They will start a vendetta against us.’

Combeferre nodded in agreement, ‘I know. It was to be expected. But have faith, friend. We have to be patient. You are bleeding.’ This last line was said while looking at his friend’s arm which carried a long pink patch on his skin that was cut open and oozing blood.

‘He hit me with the end of his bayonet when I wouldn’t budge. They have killed too many young men already these past three days and I did not want them to kill another.’

‘Here, give me your arm.’

Bahorel did so and grinned, ‘The few years I spent walking past the halls of the law school were put to good use today. You can take my shirt sleeve to make a bandage, it’s torn anyway. At least, I now know I can be arrested for something more than my fashion sense.’

Combeferre smiled as he wrapped his friend’s hand in the makeshift bandage.

‘This is temporary. The cut needs to be stitched up once we get back to my rooms.’ He tore up the end of the cloth to tie a knot and satisfied himself that there was no more bleeding and then patted his friend’s hand, ‘We should re-join our friends and make plans for the future.’

They made their way to Rue St Michel.


End file.
